


A Problem

by Gotcocomilk



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, M/M, Praise Kink, Roof Sex, Trust Kink, look at frankenstein and tell me he's not Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotcocomilk/pseuds/Gotcocomilk
Summary: He had always noticed Frankenstein as fighter first, scientist second, man third. It was the survival instinct that had kept him alive for so long, through the hells of the union.In this home, he had the luxury of forgetting the soldier and the scientist. He had seen Frankenstein as a man, and watched the curve of his smirk.Now he could see the curve of his cock too, and it made something in him bare hungry teeth.
Relationships: Frankenstein/M-21 (Noblesse)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 157





	A Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Me: oh ive never written daddy kink before, that’s fine I’m not super interested in it  
> Frankenstein: *exists*  
> Me: DADDY. 
> 
> (I promise I have four things worthy of Rai in the works, but for now have some smut!)

It began with a fight on a rooftop, finished and done in moments. The enemy had been nothing, and Frankenstein had been faster than usual.

Dark Spear must be acting up, to make Frankenstein move so fast. The edge of danger over this silent rooftop made that truth, as it ghosted around Frankenstein’s hair like the spill of acid in air. It spread across the fine lines of the man’s suit too, painting expensive fabric in shades of purple and hungry violence.

M21 had been a test subject for a long time. He had seen what acid did, when it spilled across floor and skin. He had felt it himself, in the name of progress and science.

He thought the acid spilling from Frankenstein’s fingers would hurt more. He thought that the boss could break his skin quicker than any Union scientist. Frankenstein was a dangerous man, and the power floating around him only made him deadly.

But M21 knew the man wouldn’t hurt him. There was trust built between them, forged over months of life and battles fought side by side.

M21 stepped willingly to Frankenstein’s exam table. He would do it a thousand times, without flinching.

There was no bond of trust stronger for a disposable experiment.

It was that belief that drove him forward, to walk through the sheen of purple around Frankenstein. The power stung his skin, hungry as a starved beast but leashed enough to not devour him.

It still licked at his skin, and M21 couldn’t push it away.

“Hey,” he said, watching as the last drops of blood fell to the ground. Dark Spear had eaten well from this battle, and its edges flickered like a living thing.

From the way Frankenstein spoke of it, maybe it was. M21 didn’t want to think of how many lives had been poured into that weapon, but he had a grim certainty that it numbered in the thousands.

There was no place humans wouldn’t tread, to gain power. Nothing they wouldn’t do, he thought, feeling the ache of countless scars.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Frankenstein hadn’t taken power. Frankenstein had only used what was made, for all his skill.

M21 knew why, and understood. Loyalty to Rai was something that had already dug into his skin and life, and Frankenstein had known the man for much longer.

There was little M21 wouldn’t do, to protect this place and Rai. Was there anything Frankenstein wouldn’t burn, to make Rai smile?

M21 knew the answer.

It was just the two of them, standing on this roof in the moonlight. It was just the two of them, but Frankenstein seemed sharper than usual, and the threads of Dark Spear wilder.

The acid bit into his skin, and stung in a feeling he knew too well.

M21 had survived worse.

“That was the last group,” he said, and still Frankenstein didn’t turn to him.

“Frankenstein?” His voice wasn’t wary, and didn’t falter. It wasn’t quiet, as he had been in the back alleys of the union. It wasn’t mockingly loud either, as he’d been under the knives of different scientists.

It was calm, because M21 could be calm here. He could trust, here. The guard he’d kept up his whole life, made from shattered surgical knives and the scraps of his dignity, wasn’t needed.

This place was a home, and Frankenstein had helped make it so.

“She’s being greedy,” the man said, voice tight. The acid swirled higher at his words, tasting the air and finding it bland.

It didn’t find M21 bland. It rippled across his skin, sharp enough he grit his teeth against a gasp. The weapon was swirling around him, licking over his face and pressing acid into the hollow of his throat. M21 snapped a hand up, strong fingers gripping at the threads of power and holding them tight.

A few feet away, Frankenstein twitched. Then he groaned, annoyance sharp as the acid stinging M21’s skin.

“Lover dear, can’t you just be content with the trash you ate? So demanding.”

For all its tease, Frankenstein’s voice was so tight. M21 dug his claws into the power in his fingers, and Frankenstein’s eyes snapped to him.

“Let go of that,” the man said, with the crisp precision of a scientist. The swirl of power pulsed as he spoke, a thousand flecks of purple acid biting at the air.

They were not what had M21’s attention.

The man’s pants had always been tight. Fine fabric stretched across long legs that M21 had done his best not to notice. The suit was tailored to perfection, as all Frankenstein’s suits were. M21 had never bought himself anything so fine, but he imagined the pants were expensive.

They showed a bulge too easily.

M21 let go, acid slipping from his fingertips. Then he stepped in, slow as a wolf circling dangerous prey.

“You have a problem,” he said, and the words were calm. He didn’t feel calm, for all the trust lingering between them. His skin buzzed like electricity ran over it, and the phantom sting of a hundred drops of acid made his shoulders go stiff.

He had always noticed Frankenstein as fighter first, scientist second, man third. It was the survival instinct that had kept him alive for so long, through the hells of the union.

In this home, he had the luxury of forgetting the soldier and the scientist. He had seen Frankenstein as a man, and watched the curve of his smirk.

Now he could see the curve of his cock too, and it made something in him bare hungry teeth. It made him want to run too, to stretch quick legs and leave before he ruined this.

The man had given him a home. Did M21 have the right to ask for anything more? Did he want to?

Frankenstein’s glare went sharp and assessing, for a long heartbeat and a slow breath. Then it smoothed over into heat, and the smallest smile M21 had ever seen on the man’s face.

M21 tried not to turn and run, before that look.

“She gets a little touch happy,” Frankenstein said, light and casual as a day at school. But the look in old eyes was darker, and the man’s fingers were stained an acidic purple. “Don’t worry about it.”

It was an out, if M21 wanted it. He didn’t.

He looked up at the moon, watched it glimmer and shine. He had to trust his home would survive this.

He owed himself the truth as much as he owed it to Frankenstein.

“Do you want help with it,” he said, and felt the sting spread over his skin. The beast’s heart that beat in his chest was working fast, and M21 couldn’t help the twitch of his hand.

If Frankenstein didn’t say yes, M21 was going to stare at a wall for a year, Tao’s teasing be damned.

“If this is misplaced duty— no, if you think this is something you owe me— go home.”

M21 laughed, and it was quiet and bitter. It was more than he’d ever had a right to, in the labs of the union.

“I owe you a hell of a lot more than this, for what you’ve done. But its not—“ the words stopped in his throat, and he growled out frustration in a snarl. He’d always been so good at using words as a cover and a weapon.

Using them to be truthful was so much more painful.

“It’s not that,” he said at last, and forced the tension out of his shoulders.

He was safe here. He had to remember that, even when acid bit at his skin and desire made his eyes flick to Frankenstein’s pants.

He was safe.

“I see,” Frankenstein said, and the man’s eyes were shining with an edge that made M21’s skin prickle. The swirl of acid around them grew stronger, for a long heartbeat.

Then Frankenstein smiled, and it was a wicked thing.

“I prefer no saliva on my suit,” came as the man stepped closer, moving until M21 could feel the warmth of human breath on his cheek. It was nothing like the clinical precision of the doctors who had examined him, over the years.

It made M21’s heart ache.

He knew what Frankenstein was telling him. He also knew the man hadn’t touched him yet for a reason.

The darkest part of M21 wondered if it was hate, or disgust, or one of a thousand emotions he felt in the quietest time before sunrise. The darkest part of him had been forged under the knives of people who treated him as a thing, and not a man.

M21 didn’t listen to that voice anymore.

He reached a hand down to press against Frankenstein’s stomach. Expensive fabric shifted under his fingers, as the muscle beneath him twitched.

The cock straining up twitched too, but M21 didn’t curl his fingers around it yet.

“Your suit is going to get a lot messier than saliva.”

A hand came up to cup his face, still dyed an eerie purple. That touch stung with the bite of a hungry weapon, even as a finger pressed against his lips.

M21 bit at it with teeth Frankenstein had helped grow sharp. 

“Then let me suggest,” the man began, leaning in to nip at M21’s neck. The mouth on his throat was as hot as it was dangerous, and M21 grit his teeth against the feeling. Acid stung lines across his skin, spreading from the hungry lips like a hungrier beast.

M21 would be devoured, if he wasn’t careful.

“That you swallow instead.”

If the blood in M21’s body hadn’t been swirling before, that would have made it flow to his cock in a heartbeat.

His mouth felt dry, but there was something he could do about that. There was something he wanted to do, and had since the first moment Frankenstein had turned to stare at him on this moonlit rooftop.

There was a choice lingering in the air around him, and M21 was free to claw it to being. He could walk away, if he wanted to, without painful knives coming for his skin.

He sunk to his knees instead.

The rough gravel dug into his knees, but he hardly felt it. The acid in the air was swirling tight and furious, licking at his skin again and again.

Frankenstein’s hands twitched at his sides, but it was the rough inhale that made M21 feel powerful.

He leaned forward, until his breath ghosted across the cloth in front of him and the acid curled over his neck like a collar.

He wouldn’t have tolerated it, from anyone else. He would never be a leashed dog again, not when the Union had thrown him away like so much trash. But the power spreading down his neck wasn’t a collar but hunger, and that made all the difference.

M21 had power here, enough to make Frankenstein lose some of that calculating precision.

It made his blood hot, and a wolf growl in his belly.

“M21,” Frankenstein said, like a warning and a loss of control. He wanted that careful planning to break, and the man with the lightning temper and sharp laugh to claw through.

M21 trusted him to manage it, even as a stained hand threaded through his hair.

He laughed, quiet in the dark of night. The cock beneath his lips twitched, and the power stinging his skin swirled faster.

Frankenstein was impatient. Good.

Steady fingers pulled at his hair, twisting enough to make a prickle of pleasure shoot down his spine. Frankenstein’s other hand slipped against M21’s lips, long enough to tease and taunt.

Long enough to pop open the expensive pants before him, and let a thick cock free.

For a careful moment, neither of them moved. Flecks of purple splattered M21’s vision, the hungry weapon teasing across his skin. The hand in his hair was tight and firm, but it held steady. Frankenstein was hard and leaking before him, cock close enough that M21’s breath made it twitch.

But the man did not move.

M21 felt warm, in the chill of night.

He moved to lean forward, but the fingers in his hair kept him still. Frankenstein kept him still, on his knees and a single breath from a hard cock.

M21 could only look up and glare.

“Change your mind?” he asked, tasting the musk in the air. It was a heady smell, and it threaded into his nose and across his skin.

He wanted to be closer to the source.

“Are you going to be a good boy, and keep my suit clean?”

M21 had never felt blood rush through him faster. Good boy, Frankenstein had called him, a hand curled into his hair and a rush of power spilling over his skin.

If Frankenstein wanted him to be good, M21 wanted to be bad. He had never quite been able to surpress the urge for rebellion, not in the labs and not as the trash of the Union.

But he had never wanted to rebel from Frankenstein before. The man had his trust and loyalty, just as Rai did. M21 would break his bones a thousand times, to protect this new life.

He didn’t want to rebel, not really. But he wanted to know what Frankenstein would do, if he did.

He wanted to feel that seal break on his skin.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?”

The hand pulled him forward before Frankenstein responded, a cock sliding between his lips and stretching his mouth wide.

Salt burst across his tongue like bitter medicine once had, but this was better. This was warm, and hot with the acid stinging on his skin.

Frankenstein’s hand tugged him forward further, and M21 let his mouth fall open around a thick cock.

“If you aren’t good, this will never happen again. Or, no— I’ll pull you off my cock right now and handle the problem separately. And we’ll never speak of it again.”

M21 was going to break all Frankenstein’s dishes, just as soon as the threat stopped making him shiver. The tone of Frankenstein’s voice was dark as the power that ran over his skin, and it made pleasure run down his spine.

It made him swallow harder, around the cock in his mouth.

He wanted to spread cum across Frankenstein’s stomach, smear the man white and filthy. He wanted to feel that smirk press into his neck again, and let the kiss of danger make this sharper.

He wanted to swallow everything Frankenstein had to give, and keep that fine suit clean.

“Purple suits you,” Frankenstein said, running careless fingers down M21’s neck. The weapon bit into his skin, a dark spread of jealousy like a collar. Trails of acid were dripping across his collarbones, the threads of a hungry beast licking at his skin.

It wasn’t enough to make the rebellion fade from his spine. He sucked harder, throat filled and lips sore from the man’s cock. Frankenstein’s hips twitched like the man couldn’t help himself, and M21 had never felt hotter.

He didn’t want to rip the hand on his skin away.

“You didn’t waste time at all.” The words were echoed by a hand settling harder against his neck, warm to match the acid marking him. M21 wanted it to be heavier.He wanted Frankenstein to touch him more, while he dealt with this problem.

He wanted there to be more problems to manage.

“Maybe we see how much of me you can take, hmm? Though of course, any good experiment requires repeat testing.”

The words were idle, but a long finger ran across his pulse like Frankenstein wanted to haul him closer.

If M21 wasn’t so focused, he would have smirked. If he had the words, with the scent of musk filling his nose like a cock filled his mouth, M21 would have glared fierce rebellion.

It took only a few more moments, for the fingers on M21’s throat to tighten. The restless energy on his skin swirled, acid spilling into the air around them in a thousand hungry raindrops.

M21 was more focused on the flood in his mouth and down his throat, on the sounds of Frankenstein’s pleasure and the taste in his mouth.

He swallowed.

“You were very good,” Frankenstein said, voice quietly breathless and smug as as M21 had ever heard it.

He resisted the urge to shiver on this moonlit roof, as he pulled off. His lips stung from the stretch for a moment before the pain was washed away by three beats of a wolf’s heart. He missed it more than he should have.

“Not a drop spilled. What a good boy you were.”

The words echoed out between them, over the emptiness of a moonlit roof and into the city behind them. They were damning, and they sent a thousand sparking drops of acid down M21’s spine.

Frankenstein had to know what _good boy_ did to him. The man’s eyes saw everything, sharp as only the best scientists could brag of.

M21 glared harder, and stood to shaking feet. He was hard as steel in the suit that Frankenstein had given him, but he didn’t look away.

The problem was handled; it was time to go home.

“Where are you going?” Frankenstein asked, when his weight shifted backwards. The man was too close, smirk too bright, smell too warm.

M21 wanted to bury his face in the man’s neck and inhale until he was drunk off the smell. It was so far from the sterile scent of a lab, and so close to the smell of home.

He looked at the ground beside them instead, gaze steady and unchanging.

“Your problem is gone. We have to get home.”

“There is a new problem now,” Frankenstein said, eyes calculating in the dark of night. They dipped down to linger on M21’s pants, on the bulge that was unmistakable and needy. There was still a swirl of purple around them, but it was fading now, lost to Frankenstein’s control.

M21’s skin felt bare.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, and turned away. The taste of cum lingered in his mouth, bright and bitter as the stain of bleach.

M21 didn’t want it fade.

“Do you think this is a burden, M21?”

_Do you think you are a burden_ , echoed after the words, loud and unstoppable. They were ruthless in the chill air of night, and M21 didn’t care for them.

He wanted to laugh. A year ago, he would have known he was a burden to this man. A few months ago, he would have wondered it, even as he stood beside Tao and Takeo as a colleague.

Now, he swallowed against the taste on his tongue and stopped running. 

“I know you care,” he said, and felt the truth of the words. It was damning and comforting— M21 couldn’t get enough.

“Good,” came the reply from behind him. “Then excuse this, please.”

After the strong hand on his throat and the acid spread over his skin, M21 had not expected a kiss. He hadn’t expected it to start gentle either, not for the heartbeat that Frankenstein gave him to pull away.

He hadn’t expected it, but that didn’t mean he was going to sit back. He’d fought to survive for every moment, through experiments and the cold reality of a disposable life.

M21 wouldn’t ever stop fighting.

He pressed back, biting at Frankenstein’s lips and curling his hands in the expensive fabric of that suit. It wrinkled, under the strength of his fingers.

M21 wanted to tear it.

“Now you’re being bad. What should I do about that?”

There was a smirk kissing across his throat with the words, and clever fingers dancing down his suit. Frankenstein’s hands were deadly, but the mouth bruising into his neck was deadlier.

M21 wanted to find out what would happen, if he misbehaved. He wanted Frankenstein to let that danger out, for all the loyalty he lay at the man’s feet.

Who better than the boss, to offer him a careful fight here?

_Ri-ip_

**Author's Note:**

> Also I had to stop this thing because it just kept getting longer but rest assured M21 calls Frankenstein daddy very soon. 
> 
> [Coco’s Twitter](https://twitter.com/gotcocomilk) | [Coco’s Writing Discord](https://discord.gg/7tn2ywb)
> 
> I love hear if I wrote a particularly captivating or interesting line-- feel free to include it in a comment to feed your friendly neighborhood writing monster.


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